


Never Let Me Go

by Karari



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Comes Back Wrong, M/M, partner rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 09:05:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12229797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karari/pseuds/Karari
Summary: Maedhros changed after Angband, and so did his relationship with Fingon.





	Never Let Me Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aleksrothis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleksrothis/gifts).



“Your father took the crown from me, it's only right that I should have you. Didn't you say you love me, just a few minutes ago?”

A few minutes earlier Fingon had been ready to leave. Yes, he did say I love you, a little mechanically perhaps. It was such an obvious thing to say to your lover, but he did mean it. Now he was being taken savagely, held in place by Maedhros' grip on his hair while Maedhros thrust into him from behind. Maedhros had not let him go. Maedhros had locked the door and forced him into this.

“Maedhros,” Fingon said with a wavering voice, sputtering as strands of his own hair fell into his mouth. He wanted to add endearments, but none came to his mind. Neither did the nicknames and lovers' names they had whispered and moaned to each other what felt like ages and ages before. This wasn't the intimacy they had shared in Valinor, the sweet tender caresses exchanged in the secret of their rooms. This wasn't love. This wasn't Maitimo. “We discussed the...handing over of the crown. You agreed to it, remember?”

“I did yes. I did because you left me no choice.”

“That's not true!”

That earned Fingon a vicious thrust that almost made his arms and legs give way. Maedhros yanked on his hair so hard Fingon feared he would start ripping it out next. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“No no no, I'm not. I never would. You know it was...it was for the best, the best of our people.”

“I know that I had to surrender my birthright. I know that your people would never follow me. I saw the way your father looks at me. I _saw_ the way his mouth turns downwards whenever he speaks to me, the way he keeps at a distance. He thinks I'm disgusting, doesn't he?”

“No –”

“He thinks I'm ugly, despicable. Do you think I'm disgusting too?”

“No,” Fingon said, over and over, in time with Maedhros' thrusts. His neck was still stretched painfully back, and the pain in his shoulders met with the pain of having Maedhros slam relentlessly inside him in the middle of his back. 

“Then why are you complaining so much?”

Fingon licked his lips, staring hopelessly at the bare stone ceiling of the little drab room. If he concentrated he could hear the water of the lake lapping the shore over Maedhros' panting and grunting and the sickening soulless smack of skin on skin. It was hopeless. Maedhros – this Maedhros he did not recognize, this Maedhros who was not Maitimo – would never understand that he simply didn't want to have sex with him, not this night, not like this.

“ _Well_?”

“I...I am tired, I only asked you to wait until I was less tired.”

“We only ate dinner and talked. How can you be tired?”

“I had things to do before that.”

“Findekáno, you saved me. Why did you do it?”

“Why?” Fingon echoed, and tried to shift a little, but Maedhros even after Angband, even after nearly starving to death, and regaining only half of his weight, was heavy and so so tall.

Maedhros abruptly pulled out of him and flipped him on the bed as if he were a doll. He flung his legs open and plunged again into his sore ass. The penetration burned, and brought tears to Fingon's eyes. He was surely bleeding. Maedhros started thrusting right away. His face loomed above him, eyes bulging white and frenzied. His breath was heavy, foul. Fingon had to clench his jaw not to grimace, to hide that what he felt right now was not love nor tenderness and not even pity. He blinked rapidly to hold his tears in check, half-expecting to see fangs in Maedhros' mouth if he closed them for too long, and feel claws sink into his flesh and wrinkly leathery skin rubbing against his own.

“Don't you want to love me?”

“I do.”

“What?”

“I do I do. I do want to love you,” he repeated, louder.

“Isn't it your duty to take care of me? Make sure I'm happy, satisfied?” 

“Of course...Maedhros, please, let's talk again in the morn– ”

“Talk? _You_ are making me talk. You are _forcing_ me to talk. I don't want to talk,” Maedhros yelled, “I _don't want_ to talk! All I asked was for you to do what is your duty!”

Maedhros pulled out again. He stared at Fingon wrathfully for a few moments then crawled up his body and poked his mouth with his cock. A wave of true revulsion made Fingon retch: Maedhros' erection was indeed smeared with his own blood. Maedhros slipped his hand under his neck and forced his head up, wedging it between his thighs. His lips were pressed against the blunt head of Maedhros' cock. He wanted to flee from his body, years and leagues away where Maedhros was still Maitimo, where sex was sex and not another form of torture. 

“Findekáno, why are you doing this to me?”

Maedhros said, and he sounded wretched more than angry. 

Fingon opened his mouth, to reply to scream or to comply, he couldn't have told. It made no difference. 

Maedhros plunged into his mouth and breached his throat at the same time. Fingon choked on his own gag reflex. Tears rolled freely down his face. Maedhros seemed oblivious to them as he was oblivious to the gagging sounds while he tried to slide himself further and further down Fingon's throat. Fingon tried to breathe through his nose, but he could hardly get any air to his lungs and the stench that came with it was impossible to bear. Maedhros' moans of pleasure filled his ears as he passed out.


End file.
